Their First Date

by CrackedInkWell

Part 3: Six-fifteen

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The first thing the young stallions saw as they entered was a wide hallway, that was filled from floor to ceiling with black and white photos hanging from the walls, the paper protected by simple wooden frames. The only illumination came from aged lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, the yellowed beams shining through the warped glass. At the very end of the corridor, facing them, was a simple red couch, its fabric worn, but still bright. Beside the sofa sat a little wooden pedestal with silver tap-bell, and a dark blue curtain on the right-hand wall concealed a doorway to another room. Above the couch was a simple sign that read: “Ring for Service, Wait to be Seated.” They could still hear jazz music coming from behind the curtain, along with the sounds of ponies talking animatedly and the chinking of china.

Record, without taking off his shades, trotted down the hallway with Octave following near behind him.

“It looks like something out of a film noir,” Octave commented.

“What, you mean those old detective movies?” Record questioned.

“Well, it certainly has that feel,” the cellist nodded. Sniffing the air, he asked, “Am I the only one that smells coffee?”

The DJ took a whiff as well, “Yeah, maybe this one of those coffee houses or something. Though, I don’t know any that play jazz.”

By now, the two of them were at the end of the hall, standing in front of the couch. Record looked between the bell and the sign, “There’s only one way to find out.” He reached up with a hoof and chimed the bell a few times. Soon enough, a stallion in a tuxedo popped his head out from the curtain.

“You rang?” he asked. Record nodded and the stallion stepped out, “Welcome to The Singing Cat. May I ask why you two are here?”

“Uh, curiosity, sir,” Octave answered. “We saw the sign and heard the music-”

“Ah,” the stallion nodded, seemingly as if he understood the situation, “Here for the music, I see.” He smiled at them, “It’s such a relief that the young are taking an interest in jazz. Would you like to come in?”

“What sort of place is this?”

“Follow me,” the stallion told them, before turning and walking back through the curtain. Octave and Record followed the mysterious stallion through the drapes, and into a large, open room. The ceiling was wreathed in shadow, and from the darkness descended cords from which lamps hung, illuminating each table individually. On a stage at the head of the room, the members of a jazz band were playing their hearts out. A saxophone was played by a dark brown earth pony, while a pale green pegasus was commanding a trumpet. Another earth pony stood in the back with large double bass, and a white mare stood in front, belting out a song in a powerful voice.

Wooden tables with red tablecloths were spaced around the room, each encircled by burgundy cushions. Booths of faux-leather seats lined one side of the room. Most of the ponies were either paying attention to the musicians, or to their white cups, while others were talking with each other. They were led to an empty booth, an old picture of Canterlot’s streets hanging from the wall above the table. Once they took a seat, the stallion offered them some menus.

“I’m sorry, we’ve already had dinner,” Record said.

“Oh? Did you have any dessert, yet?” the stallion asked. The young stallions shook their heads, “Ah, well, in that case, perhaps I could- Oh! Forgive me,” the stallion started laughing, “I just realized that I haven’t introduced myself, have I. No? My name is Speak Easy, or simply Mr. Easy. I’m the manager here.”

“Well nice to meet you, sir,” Octave nodded politely. “May I ask to let us rest for a bit before we have any dessert?”

“But of course. I’ll have somepony come to you gentlecolts in fifteen minutes. In the meantime, enjoy the music,” and with that, Mr. Easy went left the two alone in the booth.

Record took a look at one of the menus that the manager left behind, “You know, this place is pretty classy, for a coffee house.”

Octave raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I mean look at this place, there’s a live band, the ponies working here are dressed up all fancy, and… Oh, yikes! It’s certainly a whole lot more expensive than Starbutt’s.”

Octave picked up the other menu, and his eyes widened at the prices in the coffee section alone. “Thirty bits for one cup! You know, I may not drink coffee but that has to be awfully high!”

“Wait, you don’t drink coffee?” Record asked.

“Well, no. Never had a drop, but-”

“Okay, stop right there! You, never had coffee? Ever?” the unicorn asked in complete surprise.

Octave shook his head, “No. Why are you so surprised at this? Wait, do you drink coffee?”

“Well yeah,” the DJ nodded. “I started drinking the stuff about a year ago.”

“I don’t know how you could drink that stuff; it always smells dreadful to me.”

“It’s not as bad as ya think once you pour in some sugar and cream. I mean, sure, it’s an acquired taste and all.”

The two of them went silent. The musicians on staged finished their song and the ponies in the coffee house applauded. A pegasus on stage took hold of a microphone and said, “Thank you very much, Mares and Gentlecolts. Once again with the wonderful Mr. Sax, we will be now be playing a rendition of ‘Deep Purple.’” There was applause, and the band began to play at a slow tempo from a piano, and a unicorn stallion trotted up took his place at the microphone and started singing.

“How’s your mother?” Octave said, breaking the silence between them.

“Huh? Oh, she’s alright. Busy as usual.”

“And your father?”

Record sighed, “Haven’t heard much in the past month. All I’ve heard is that he’s got a new job in Applewood. You know he always writes to me more than Mom, ever since the whole divorce thing.”

“I see. What kind of job does he have now?”

“Well, he said he’s learning the ropes of becoming a producer. I mean, that’s kinda cool right?”

“A producer?”

“Yeah, he said that he’s learning about all the stuff that goes behind the scenes of putting a movie together.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

“Record?” The two colts turned to this new voice. There, in a white apron, pushing a cart of dishes was a light blue pegasus with a slick orange mane that was pulled back into a ponytail. He had a hammer and chisel for his cutie mark. “Hey, dude! I didn’t know you came here!”

“Yo, Chisel,” the DJ smiled back. “What are ya doing here?”

“I work here part-time,” Chisel replied, “I didn’t expect you and… Oct, isn’t it?”

The cellist nodded, ‘Close enough, I suppose,’ he thought.

“Still, what are ya doing at this joint?” Chisel asked. “You guys are the first from school I’ve seen in here.”

“Well, we-” Record begin to say, but Octave immediately interrupted him.

“W-We just came in out of curiosity.” The earth pony stated, sounding somewhat nervous.

“Well… yeah?” the DJ raised an eyebrow. “But more importantly we-”

“Wanted some coffee!” Octave interjected.

“Okay, seriously, dude, what’s up?”

“N-Nothing.”

“Octie?”

“R-Really, it’s nothing.”

Chisel chuckled, “Ya know if I didn’t know any better.” He said, “I would think that you two were stallion-stuffers on a date.”

“What did you say!?” Record snapped at him. The Singing Cat suddenly became quiet, and all eyes were now on the three of them.

“Dude, chill. It’s just a joke,” Chisel said. “Ya don’t have to get all mad about it.”

Record shook his head, glaring at Chisel, “Brony, that wasn’t funny.”

“Why should you care?” the pegasus asked. “It’s not like…” suddenly, he realized that what he had joked about had been true. “Record, you’re dating a dude?”

“Yeah, I am. What’s in it for ya?”

“Dude, seriously? I mean, seriously!”

“Is there a problem here, Mr. Chisel?” Mr. Easy asked, approaching the three colts.

“Yeah,” Chisel replied, turning to his boss with anger in his eyes. “I just found out that these two are dating each other!” Octave sunk back underneath the table. “Mr. Easy, can’t you kick these two colt-cuddlers outta here?”

Mr. Easy was certainly surprised at this outburst. He looked between his employee and the couple sitting at his booth. “Before I say anything, I do have one question for you two.”

Octave gulped.

“Do either of you have any money on you?” the owner asked, to which, the cellist nodded. Speak Easy turned to his employee. “Not to worry, Mr. Chisel, you won’t be seeing them in this establishment again.” The young pegasus grinned evilly, that was until his boss added: “Mr. Chisel, you’re fired.”

Chisel’s jaw dropped to the floor, “W-What?!”

“May I kindly remind you of the first rule in working in this establishment?” Easy sternly asked, “It’s that as long as the customer is polite and has the means to pay, we treat them with the utmost respect. Your display in behavior does not reflect the rules here at The Singing Cat. I’ll make sure to mail you your final paycheck, but for now, please get out of my coffee house.”

Chisel did so with a snort; throwing his white apron in his boss’s face before marching out through the swinging doors. Mr. Easy turned to the couple, “I severely apologize for what just happened. That was unfair to you two. I don’t think you’ve ordered yet, have you?” They shook their heads. “For tonight, whatever you order, it’ll be on the house. Also, anytime either of you comes in, you’ll be granted a fifty-percent discount off of the whole menu.”

“Really?!” they both asked, surprised at it.

“Sir, this is incredibly generous of you!” Octave added.

“It’s quite alright. After that display from a… former employee, you two deserve to have better treatment. Speaking of which, may I take your order?”

Comments

[PrinceCelestia]

cute! nice detailed story telling! Though you might want to look at it a bit closer i saw a few errors like:

“Hey dude! I didn't you come here!”

"hey dude! I didn't know you came here!" is what you meant i think?

[CrackedInkWell]

5679853 Thank ya, I'll fix that.